Christmas Eve
by Pleasant Tomorrow
Summary: Jack is surprised not to hear from Janet this Christmas - but things are about to change.


It had been a tumultuous three years for Jack Tripper. Since leaving apartment 201 for the final time, his relationship with Vicky had crept closer and closer to marriage until, in a final standstill on her behalf, it imploded and fizzled like the short lived star it was always destined to be.

He took it hard. It was the first time in his life he had dedicated himself to someone, and he'd failed. It didn't sit well in his heart. It certainly didn't sit well for his career. But after struggles with the owner of his restaurant, Vicky's father, he'd eventually negotiated a deal and became the owner himself. This new fact did not make him unpopular with the ladies, and he'd have fallen back into his old habits (and nearly did) if it weren't for the only steadfast light in his life – the same person his heart went back to no matter how many times he reprimanded it for doing so.

Which was why it was so strange that he hadn't heard from her in weeks. Each Christmas Eve, Phillip's family threw a holiday party at their estate. It was attended by some of Santa Monica's most elite – local artists, politicians. Brett Wade had even shown up one year, much to Janet's contention. She hated the parties. She hated the company. And each year, she insisted that Jack show up so she had somebody to talk to.

Just a year prior, Janet had confidentially explained to Jack that she and Phillip had filed for divorce. But upon news of the baby – a little girl they ended up naming Jacqueline – nothing ever came of it.

He had not received an invitation this year. And on this Christmas Eve night, half packed for the journey to San Diego the following day, he solemnly crept from his apartment to the dimly lit bistro just a floor below to do what he did best. Soon pans, and baking sheets and balls of dough were strewn throughout the kitchen. The smell of cookies lifted his spirits, if only just a bit.

"Jack, what made you want to become a chef?" he recalled Janet asking years before as she thumbed through his special, secret recipe book (now long since disappeared). He'd only let her see it after her incessant begging made it no longer worth his superiority complex.

"Because I was never very good at math and this was as close to it as I could get," he half joked.

She looked at him quizzically. "What, you mean the measurements?"

"Yeah – the recipes. They're like their own little equations. You add a little of this and flambé a little of that and voila," he held up the baked Alaska he had been putting the final touches on. "You get the answer."

She smiled at yet another one of his perfect creations. "I still don't understand what any of that has to do with why you became a chef."

" _Because_ ," he insisted as though it were obvious, "It's all laid out for you. All you have to do is follow the directions. You have a beautiful, universal language and no complicated guesswork."

"Complicated guesswork was the only reason I passed math in high school," Janet joked.

"Which is why," Jack said, placing the dessert in front of her, "it's nice to have all the answers spelled out for you. You just plug them in. Cooking." She nodded in approval before digging in.

"Plus," Jack added. "I look _very_ sexy in an apron."

Janet had been too busy eating to protest.

Jack looked out the kitchen window; the only thing that indicated the Christmas season in the California climate were the snowflake decals on the window and the lights adorning various businesses across the street. There was little sign of life outside. Everyone else seemed to be indoors celebrating.

It wasn't like her to forget him.

In the corner of the bistro nearer the door, the Christmas tree's colorful lights glowed softly. As Jack continued to bake in the kitchen, the image of a woman filled the space in the door's window.

There was a gentle _tap tap tap_ on the glass.

Though it was quiet, Jack heard the sound immediately. He set the bowl down, wiped off his hands, and pushed the kitchen door ajar. When his eyes locked with hers, her smile grew.

"Janet!" His threw his arms around her as soon as the door was open, engulfing her in a tight embrace.

"Hi, hi!" she glowed, returning the gesture. It was unseasonably cold, and she wore a red knit beret and a navy pea coat. To her side, a small, neatly wrapped gift protruded from her purse but Jack didn't seem to notice.

He slowly pulled back. "I – your party. I hadn't heard from you. Is everything okay?"

She nodded knowingly, irritated but clearly not toward him. Producing an invitation from her coat pocket, she presented it to Jack. "Phillip was in charge of sending them out this year and he…well, he never sent yours."

Jack looked puzzled. "Is he mad at me or something? Was it the cookies I sent you? I knew I should've left out the lemon bars. Nobody ever likes the lemon bars…"

"Jack," Janet chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I don't think he's angry with you, honey. He's angry with me."

He looked into her eyes, his face growing concerned.

"I think he knows that I…" She looked down at the floor. His gaze followed hers. Leaving her words to dangle in silence, she pulled the small package from her purse and handed it to Jack. "I have something for you."

"For me?"

"It's nothing, really. Open it. You'll see."

He slowly peeled away the festive wrapping, revealing something he hadn't seen in years.

"My old recipe book. Janet, where'd you find this?"

"Well, I was going through some of my things the other day and there it was in between a bunch of boring legal documents. It must've gotten mixed up in my things when we moved out of the apartment."

Jack chuckled. "That's weird. I…legal documents?"

"The divorce." She sighed. "We got into another fight and I…I think it's happening for real this time."

"Oh, Jan…" He didn't even hesitate before wrapping his arms around her once more. It was short lived, however, for Janet didn't seem to have any interest in his pity. She gestured to the book that Jack still held in his hand.

"Open it!"

Still concerned, Jack observed her face for a moment before sifting through the pages. "Is there something I should be looking for?"

"Flip to the back," a slight smirk grew on her face.

He followed her instructions, noting nothing but blank space. Janet rolled her eyes and flipped to the page before it. It was a mess of a page, full of scribbles and doodles of various womanly shapes. Jack's eyes grew and he laughed at its title words, 'Recipe for the Perfect Woman.'

" _What_ is this?"

She laughed in return. "You ought to know, you wrote it!"

"I did not! I don't remember any of this! I mean, 'one part firm _bleh_ to two parts shapely -

Janet was nears tears laughing. "I think you were one part disgusting to two parts drunk."

" _This_ is what you wanted me to see? Of all the things I've scribbled into that book over the years?"

"No, no," she replied, recovering from her fit of giggles. "No, look, it's all crossed out, see? Except for this part at the bottom," she pointed, her expression growing more serious.

He followed her index finger to the single word at the bottom of the page.

'Janet.'

She still had a trace of a smile on her face, but she looked away from him. "I just…I thought it was really sweet of you."

He tried to catch her eyes with his own, and finally she looked back up at him. She didn't seem to expect any answers. He honestly didn't remember when he'd written it, but there was her name in his handwriting – and he knew he'd meant it. He'd always meant it.

"Do you think I was drunk when I wrote that, too?" He quipped to break the tension.

Janet smacked him. Before she could give him a piece of her mind, she stopped. "Do you smell burning?"

"Oh, no, my cookies!"

In a flash he was in the kitchen, only to return moments later with a smoking pan of black crumbs.

"Oh, Jack, I'm sorry!"

"I suppose I can always make another batch. What time is it?"

"Nearly 10:30."

"I'll tell you what, if I start another batch now, would you mind being my assistant for the night? Unless…you have to get back to your party."

She blew off the mention of the party and smiled. "I'd love to help."

"Tell me the truth, Janet," Phillip had said to her just a week prior. "When we were separated, did something happen between you and Jack?"

She'd been shocked at the proposition that she would be unfaithful to her husband, separated or not. It was a fear she knew Phillip harbored, the idea of her and Jack, even though she went out of her way to prove to him otherwise. Of course she loved Jack, but she made damn well sure they never got too close. There was a danger in that, she knew, for her love for him did not fade no matter how much she forced it to.

"Jack is my best friend and he just so happens to be a man. That's all there is to it, alright? Nothing more."

"I know you spent time with him during that time frame."

"What are you trying to say, Phillip?"

"I think you know."

Tears welling in her eyes, she shook her head in disgust. Of course she knew what he was insinuating. He was intent on the idea that Jackie may not be his, that somehow during their brief time apart, Janet had cheated on him with Jack. Yet it wasn't his mistrust of her that was the final straw; it was seeing him look into the eyes of their child and seeing her as any less because she may not be his.

Kneading fists of dough, the topic turned once more to Janet's situation.

"I don't want to pry or anything, I just need to know that you're okay," Jack stated.

She nodded while placing spoonfuls of dough onto a pan. "I will be. More than anything I'm concerned about my little girl, Jack. I mean to divorce her father while she's only just a baby…"

"You can't think any less of yourself Janet. This isn't your fault."

"Isn't it? Was I not the one who rushed into a marriage that was doomed to fail because –"

She stopped short, afraid of what she might reveal.

He placed his hand on hers.

"What if she grows up hating me for divorcing her father, Jack?"

He turned to her and softly lifted her chin, leaving behind a faint trace of flour that he chose not to acknowledge. Speaking just above a whisper, he looked her straight in the eyes. "She'll never hate you. No one could ever hate you."

She fell into his arms, her favorite place to be, and nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, which she played with mindlessly as a faint smile graced her face. Noticing the cookie batter residue she'd accidentally just rubbed all over him, she pulled back.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it," he said, pulling his shirt up to his mouth. "I like my clothing edible anyway."

He winked, and her smile grew. Still, he could see the sadness behind her eyes and the anxieties that plagued her. Taking her hands, he gently wiped them with a wet cloth.

"Have you made up your mind, then? For certain? Is it over?"

"As soon as I find a place, I'm taking my daughter and I'm leaving." It was the strong, self-assured Janet talking now. If the situation involved her daughter, she was diligent, unwavering.

"Where is she right now?"

"My parents are in town for the holidays. They volunteered to watch her during the party, but I should probably get going soon to check in on her…"

Jack felt an urgency building up inside of him, a desire to take a leap that he hadn't had the strength to take up until this night, this moment. His chance to make a move was wide open for the first time. No husbands, no apartment rules. He blurted out the words before he had a chance to fully think them through. "Janet, can I…will you…c-can I ask you…"

"…yes, Jack?"

"Stay with me."

"What do you mean?"

"Stay with me. Now. Tonight. Forever, if you want to. You and Jackie."

His eyes bore into her as if they were penetrating her soul, every ounce of his heart's intentions piercing through her.

She was so taken aback at first that she didn't know what to say. He seemed to pack so many different intentions in just a few short words. He had just offered her and her daughter a new beginning. It seemed almost too much to ask.

"Jack…" was all she managed to utter.

"If not forever then…then what about just for tonight?"

The faint smell of cookies baking lingered in the air as they gazed into each other's eyes. To his right, on the table, used bowls, parchment paper, and various ingredients sat lying about. It was a recipe Jack knew like the back of his hand. They were simple butter shortbread cookies (sablés to the French) that Jack had made each Christmas since beginning cooking school all those years ago. He liked them because they'd become familiar and comforting. And yet no matter how many times he'd made them, each batch was just as exciting as the last.

He could see the struggle in Janet's eyes. He knew that she had her pride, that she hated pity – but this was not pity. He wanted her with him. She was his biggest ambition, his longest yearning. She was the end result of a life of searching for the answers to a question he'd already had the answer to.

'Janet' he'd written in his book all those years ago, a reminder to himself when he was too young to know better, as if a part of him had known all along. Only within the last few years had he allowed himself to accept it – but then it'd been too late.

"Janet?"

She hadn't moved from where she stood, frozen in place and in thought. Finally she glanced up at him.

"Jack, I don't know what to say…"

"Say you'll stay."

"It'd be too much to ask."

"You're not asking. I am."

"And I just don't think there'd be enough room between the three of us and I - "

"Then we'll just figure that out when the time comes. We could find a bigger place if we need to."

"Jack –"

"Janet! Don't you realize I would climb mountains for you and that little girl? I'd do anything. Anything, Janet, just as long as I could make you happy."

She smiled painfully as she gazed at him. Maybe it was pride that prevented her from immediately saying yes, but more than anything it was fear. She had wanted Jack to say something like that to her for years. By now they both knew there was a common, unspoken understanding between the two of them that what they felt for each other was more than just plain friendship. Still, it was what she had always been so used to. The idea of breaking out of that comfort zone, no matter how wonderful and rewarding the result, terrified her.

Finally, she spoke. "I thank you, Jack…with all of my heart. I do, but…I just don't think I'm ready to make a decision like this. Not right now. I just don't think I could…"

He nodded knowingly, a faint lump in his throat. "Sure. I understand."

"Okay…"

"Okay."

"Here, let me help you clean up before I leave," she said, trying to break the tension.

"Don't worry about it. I'm gonna keep baking."

"But it's so late."

He shrugged. "I'm not tired."

"Well then," she hesitated a bit. "I really should get going now."

"Yeah," he spoke softly as he led her to the door in the dining room.

Pausing briefly at the door after putting on her coat and hat, Janet turned to Jack once more. "Thanks, Jack," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Thank you," he nodded to the recipe book on the table beside them.

She smiled once more, turned, and was gone, leaving Jack to the silence in which she'd found him.

The faint glow of the tree's lights illuminated his sullen face and he sunk into the closest chair. It was one of those moments where he wanted to smack himself, he felt so foolish. Of course she was going to say no. She had only just decided she was going to divorce her husband, only just decided she was going to move out of the house. She had a baby for Christ sakes! He groaned and lightly bumped his head into the table in front of him. The culmination of their relationship was a delicate process he had built himself up to for years and he'd blown it in one moment of excitement.

He lightly slammed the table with his fist, ran his hands over his face and through his hair, took a deep breath, and stood back up to head to the kitchen. Now he found himself growing tired, and he resolved to clean up after all before heading to bed.

However, just moments after he entered the kitchen, there was another gentle _tap tap tap_ on the glass.

His heart began to beat rapidly in response to the sound. He pushed through the kitchen door and lit up when he saw Janet once more through the window.

He opened the door, but neither of them said a word. Her large eyes sparkled against the glow of the Christmas lights as they locked with Jack's. She managed to somehow look both calm and anxious at the same time, and something of a laugh/sigh hybrid escaped from her mouth. There was a slight hesitation before she stepped closer to him and he found her lips dancing upon his.

It had been some time since they'd last kissed, and the memory of how she tasted washed over him as if there had been no time at all. Their tongues found each other's as he pulled her closer, wishing to God he'd never have to let go again. Her fingers had made their way through his light brown hair while his arms eagerly searched her body, reaching dangerously close to areas he'd never before dared.

They only pulled away to explore more areas of skin with their lips- his temples, his cheeks, her earlobe, her neck. It was pent up years of yearning and emotion released in bursts of passion. Neither one of them wanted to stop, but both knew that now was not the time to go further.

Finally they pulled away, still panting and gasping for air. Their foreheads rested against one another as beaming smiles began to form on both of their faces. Still eyeing his swollen lips, Janet spoke.

"I forgot to tell you Merry Christmas," she whispered, her warm breath sending a shiver down his spine.

Both of them began to laugh, though whether it was nerves or pure elation was hard to say. Their faces – their entire bodies – beamed with joy and letting go seemed too painful.

Jack's facial expression slowly sobered. He still had something he couldn't get off his mind.

"…Janet?"

He didn't have to speak in complete sentences for her to understand what was worrying him. She slowly nodded to curb his concerns.

"Jack, given time, I think…I think we could do this. I want this. Do you?"

The smile washed over his face once more as he took her in for one more sweet kiss. After he'd pulled away, stroking her cheek with his thumb, he replied, "More than anything I've ever wanted in my entire life."

Still beaming, she leaned further into him and rested her head on his shoulders. "Oh, Jack."

Snow did not fall from the sky as they held each other closer – for this was Santa Monica after all – but each of them felt in the air the promise of Christmas. It was a time to love and they felt that love completely. And as the New Year that followed close behind entered their minds, though unsure of what the future would bring, in that moment they felt as though nothing could harm them.

"Merry Christmas, Janet," he whispered into her ear, feeling completely content for the first time in his life.

"Merry Christmas, Jack."


End file.
